WE FALL INTO TROUBLE AGAIN
It was not long after our visit to the marvelous fountain when Jack
proposed to me that he and I should make a little excursion on our own
account in the city. Edmund was absent at the moment, engaged in some
inquiries which interested him, under the guidance of Ala and her
customary attendants. I forget why Jack and I had stayed behind, since
both Juba and Henry had accompanied Edmund, but it was probably because
we wished to make some necessary repairs to our garments for I confess
that I shared a little of the coquettishness of Jack in that matter. At
any rate, we grew weary of being alone, and decided to venture just a
little way in search of adventure. We calculated that the tower of the
palace, which was so conspicuous, would serve us as a landmark, and that
there was no danger of getting lost.
Nobody interfered with us at our departure, as we had feared they might,
and in a short time we had become so absorbed in the strange spectacles
of the narrow streets, lined with shops and filled with people on foot,
while small air ships continually passed just above the roofs, that we
forgot the necessity of keeping our landmark constantly in view, and were
lost without knowing it.
One thing which immediately struck us was the entire absence of beasts of
burden--nothing like horses or mules did we see. There were not even
dogs, although, as I have told you, some canine-like animals dwelt with
the people of the caverns. Everybody went either on foot or in air ships.
There were no carriages, except a kind of palanquin, some running on
wheels and others borne by hand.
"I should think they would have autos," said Jack, "with all their
science and ingenuity which Edmund admires so much."
But there was not a sign of anything resembling an auto; the silence of
the crowded streets was startling, and made the scene more dreamlike.
Everybody appeared to be shod with some noise-absorbing material. We
strolled along, turning corners with blissful carelessness, staring and
being stared at (for, of course, everybody knew who we were), peering
into open doors and the gaping fronts of bazaars, chattering like a
couple of boys making their first visit to a city, and becoming every
moment more hopelessly, though unconsciously, lost, and more interested
by what we saw. The astonishing display of pleasing colors and the
brilliancy of everything fascinated us. I had never seen anything
comparable to this in beauty, variety, and richness. We passed a market
where we saw some of the bright-plumaged birds that we had eaten at our
first repast hung up for sale. They had a way of serving these birds at
table with the brilliant feathers of the head and neck still attached, as
if they found a gratification even at their meals in seeing beautiful
colors before them.
Other shops were filled with birds in gilded cages, which we should have
taken for songsters but for the fact that, although crowds gathered about
and regarded them with mute admiration, not a sound issued from their
throats--at least we heard none. A palanquin stopped at one of these
shops, and a lady alighted and bought three beautiful birds which she
carried away in their cages, watching them with every indication of the
utmost pleasure, which we ascribed to the splendor of their plumage and
the gracefulness of their forms. As a crowd watched the transaction
without interference on the part of the shopkeeper, or evidence of
annoyance on that of the lady, we took the liberty of a close look
ourselves. Then we saw their money.
"Good, yellow gold," whispered Jack.
Such, indeed, it seemed to be. The lady took the money, which consisted
of slender rings, chased with strange characters, from a golden purse,
and the whole transaction seemed so familiar that we might well have
believed ourselves to be witnessing a purchase in a bazaar of Cairo or
Damascus. This scene led to a desire on Jack's part to buy something
himself.
"If I only had some of their money," he said, "I'd like to get some
curiosities to carry home. I wonder if they'd accept these?" and he drew
from his pocket some gold and silver coins.
"No doubt they'd be glad to have a few as keepsakes," I said.
"By Jo! I think I'll try it," said Jack, "but not here. I'm not a bird
fancier myself. Let's look a little farther."
We wandered on, getting more and more interested, and followed by a
throng of curious natives, who treated us, I must say, much more
respectfully than we should have been treated in similar circumstances at
home. Many of the things we saw, I cannot describe, because there is
nothing to liken them to, but all were as beautiful as they were strange.
At last we found a shop whose contents struck Jack's fancy. The place
differed from any that we had yet seen; it was much larger, and more
richly fitted up than the others, and there were no counters, the things
that it contained being displayed on the inner walls, while a single
keeper, of a grave aspect, and peculiarly attired, all in black, occupied
a seat at the back. The objects on view were apparently ornaments to be
hung up, as we hang plaques on the wall. They were of both gold and
silver, and in some the two metals were intermixed, with pleasing
effects. What seemed singular was the fact that the _motif_ of the
ornaments was always the same, although greatly varied in details of
execution. As near as I could make it out, the intention appeared to be
to represent a sunburst. There was invariably a brilliant polished boss
in the center, sometimes set with a jewel, and surrounding rays of
crinkled form, which plunged into a kind of halo that encircled the
entire work. The idea was commonplace, and it did not occur to me amidst
my admiration of the extreme beauty of the workmanship that there was any
cause for surprise in the finding of a sunburst represented here. Jack
was enthusiastic.
"That's the ticket for me," he said. "How would one of those things look
hanging over the fireplace of old Olympus? You bet I'm going to persuade
the old chap to exchange one for a handful of good solid American money."
I happened to glance behind us while Jack was scooping his pocket, and
was surprised to see that the crowd of idlers, which had been following
us, had dispersed. Looking out of the doorway, I saw some of them
furtively regarding us from a respectful distance. I twitched Jack by the
sleeve:
"See here," I said, "there's some mistake about this. I don't believe
that this is a shop. You'd better be careful, or we may make a bad
break."
"Oh, pshaw!" he replied; "it's a shop all right, or if it isn't exactly a
shop that old duffer will be glad to get a little good money for one of
his gimcracks."
My suspicion that all was not right was not allayed when I noticed that
the old man, whose complexion differed from the prevailing tone here, and
who was specially remarkable by the possession of an eagle-beaked nose, a
peculiarity that I had not before observed among these people, began to
frown as Jack brusquely approached him. But I could not interfere before
Jack had thrown a handful of coin in his lap, and, reaching up, had put
his hand upon one of the curious sunbursts, saying:
"I guess this will suit; what do you say, Peter?"
Instantly the old fellow sprang to his feet, sending the coins rolling
over the polished floor, and with eyes ablaze with anger, seized Jack by
the throat. I sprang to his aid, but in a second four stout fellows,
darting out of invisible corners, grappled us, and before we could make
any effective resistance, they had our arms firmly bound behind our
backs! Jack exerted all his exceptional strength to break loose, but in
vain.
"I tried to stop you, Jack--" I began, in a tone of annoyance, but
immediately he cut me off:
"This is on _me_, Peter; don't you worry. _You_ haven't done anything."
"I'm afraid it's on all of us," I replied. "The whole party, Edmund and
all, may have to suffer for our heedlessness."
"Fiddlesticks," he returned. "I haven't got his old ornament, but he's
got my coin. This looks like a skin game to me. What in thunder did he
hang the things up for if he didn't want to sell 'em?"
"But I told you this wasn't a shop."
"No, I see it isn't; it's a trap for suckers, I guess."
Jack's indignation grew hotter as we were dragged out into the street,
and followed by a crush of people drawn to the scene, were hurried along,
we knew not whither. In fact, his indignation swallowed up the alarm
which he ought to have experienced, and which I felt in full force. I
beat my brains in vain to find some explanation for the merciless
severity with which we were treated so out of all proportion to the
venial fault that had unconsciously been committed, and my perplexity
grew when I saw in the faces of the crowd surrounding us, and running to
keep up, a look of horror, as if we had been guilty of an unspeakable
crime. We were too much hurried and jolted by our captors to address one
another, and in a short time we were widely separated, Jack being led, or
rather dragged, ahead, as if to prevent any communication between us.
Once in a while, to my regret, I observed him exerting all his force to
break his bonds and slinging his custodians about; but he could not get
away, and at last, to my infinite comfort, he ceased to struggle, and
went along as quietly as the rapid pace would permit.
Presently an air ship swooped down from above, and alighted in a little
square which we had just entered. Immediately we were taken aboard, with
small regard to our comfort, and the air ship rose rapidly, and bore off
in the direction of the great tower of the palace which we could now see.
Upon our arrival we were taken through the inevitable labyrinth of
corridors, and finally found ourselves in a place that was entirely new
to us.
It was a round chamber, perhaps two hundred feet in diameter, lighted,
like the Roman Pantheon, by a huge circular opening in the vaulted roof,
through which I caught a glimpse of the pearl-tinted cloud dome, which
seemed infinitely remote. No opposition was made when I pushed ahead in
order to be at Jack's side, and as a throng quickly hedged us round, our
conductors released their hold, although our arms remained bound. When at
last we stood fast we were in front of a rich dais, containing a
thronelike seat occupied by a personage attired in black, the first
glimpse of whose face gave me such a shock as I had not experienced since
the priest of the earth-worshipers seized me for his prey. I have never
seen anything remotely resembling that face. It was without beard, and of
a ghastly paleness. It was seen only in profile, except when, with a
lightning-like movement, it turned, for the fraction of a second, toward
us, and was instantly averted again. It made my nerves creep to look at
it. The nose was immense, resembling a huge curved beak, and the eyes, as
black and glittering as jet, were roofed with shaggy brows, and seemed
capable of seeing crosswise.
Sometimes one side of the face and sometimes the other was presented, the
transition being effected by two instantaneous jerks, with a slight pause
between, during which the terrible eyes transfixed us. At such moments
the creature--though he bore the form of a man--seemed to project his
dreadful countenance toward the object of his inspection like a monstrous
bird stretching forth its neck toward its prey. The effect was
indescribable, terrifying, paralyzing! The eyes glowed like fanned
embers.
"In God's name," gasped Jack, leaning his trembling shoulder upon me,
"what is it?"
I was, perhaps, more unmanned than he, and could make no reply.
Then there was a movement in the throng surrounding us, and the old man
of the sunbursts appeared before the throne, and, after dropping on his
knees and rising again, indicated us with his long finger, and, as was
plain, made some serious accusation. The face turned upon us again with a
longer gaze than usual, and we literally shrank from it. Then its owner
rose from his seat, towering up, it seemed, to a height of full seven
feet, shot his hand out with a gesture of condemnation, and instantly sat
down again and averted his countenance. There seemed to have been a world
of meaning in this brief act to those who could comprehend it. We were
seized, even more roughly than before, and dragged from the chamber, and
at the end of a few minutes found ourselves thrown into a dungeon, where
there was not the slightest glimmer of light, and the door was locked
upon us.
It was a long time before either of us summoned up the courage to speak.
At length I said faintly:
"Jack, I'm afraid it's all over with us. We must have done something
terrible, though I cannot imagine what it was."
But Jack, after his manner, was already recovering his spirits, and he
replied stoutly:
"Nonsense, Peter, we're all right, as Edmund says. Wait till he comes and
he'll fix it."
"But how can he know what has happened? And what could he do if he did?
More likely they will all be condemned along with us."
Jack felt around in the dark and got me by the hand, giving it a hearty
pressure.
"Remember Ala," he said. "She's our friend, or Edmund's, and they'll
bring us out of this. You want to brace up."
"Remember Ingra!" I responded with a shiver, and I could feel Jack start
at the words.
"Hang him!" he muttered. "If I'd only finished him when I had the drop!"
After that neither spoke. If Jack's thoughts were blacker than mine he
must have wished for his pistol to blow out his own brains. At no time
since our arrival on the planet had I felt so depressed. I had no courage
left; could see no lightening of the gloom anywhere. In the horror of the
darkness which enveloped us, the _horror of space_ came over my spirit.
One feels a little of that sometimes when the breadth of an ocean
separates him from home, and from all who really care for him--but what
is the Atlantic or the Pacific to millions upon millions of leagues of
interplanetary space! To be cast away among the inhabitants of another
world than one's own! To have lost, as we had done (for in that moment of
despair I was _sure_ Edmund could never repair the car), the only
possible means of return! To have offended, just _because_ we were
strangers, and _could_ not know better, some incomprehensible social law
of this strange people, who owned not a drop of the blood of our race, or
of any race whatsoever dwelling on the earth! To lie under the
condemnation of that goblin face, without the possibility of pleading
even the mercy that our hearts instinctively grant to the smallest mite
of fellow life on our own planet! To be alone! friendless! forsaken!
condemned!--in a far-off, kinless world! I could have fallen down in
idolatry before a grain of sand from the shore of the Atlantic!
In the murkiest depth of my despair a sound roused me with a shock that
made my heart ache. In a moment the door opened, light streamed in, and
Edmund stood there.